A Little Affected
by Serena2
Summary: Ron takes Hermione on their first date, and Hermione discovers a new side of Ron, along with the dangerous side effects of a certain red liquid and lots of French food...


**_A/N:_**This is a really fluffy, one-shot R/H fic. Also, don't read ahead if you're opposed to characters drinking. Nobody does anything really crazy though, and they definitely don't drink and ride broomsticks. That's just dangerous. 

**_Summary: _**Ron takes Hermione out on their first date and Hermione discovers a new side of Ron, along with the dangerous side effects of a certain red liquid and lots of French food. 

**_The Usual Disclaimer:_** I own Harry Potter! BWA HA HA!!! ::several eager looking lawyers bust in, subpoenas in hand:: Hey, hey, take it easy, I was just kidding alright? As if that Rowling lady needs any MORE money…Hmm, you think she would lend any to me? You know, since I don't own Harry Potter and don't have millions of dollars…

**A Little Affected**

          His eyes traveled up and down, taking her in, his jaw slightly slack. She was wearing knee-high black leather high-heeled boots, a black skirt that ended just above her knees, and a snug blood-red long-sleeved top. The neckline was in the shape of a v, low enough to catch Ron's eye, but modest enough to leave plenty to the imagination.

          Her hair was down, and fell in large, round curls, framing her face. He knew she was wearing makeup, but it was applied so naturally, and in neutral brown and mauve colors, that there was nothing fake about it. It only enhanced the beauty she already had. She was wearing perfume, and as Ron took her hands in his and kissed her softly on the cheek, he inhaled it, and for a brief moment, felt weak to his knees. 

          Hermione smiled at him shyly, capturing the way he looked so that she would always remember it. He was wearing a soft blue shirt under a black jacket, with black slacks. His hair was gelled and combed, his eyes sparkling, and Hermione thought he looked positively handsome. There was no other word for him. 

          "Shall we?" He said, offering his arm to her. She noticed that in his other hand, he was holding a long leather case by a strap. 

          "Lets," she said with a grin, and put on her coat before taking his arm. They walked to Hogsmeade in silence, speaking only to comment on what a beautiful night it was. 

          Finally, they stopped at a corner, and Hermione looked up to see white curtained windows, a glass door, and a sign on top that said "_La Ciboulette". He opened the door for her, and they stepped into the small restaurant. _

          She gave a small gasp when she took in the surroundings. It was a beautiful place, small, but charming. People were chatting quietly over the soft accordions of French music. Candles burned brightly from each table. Ron spoke to the hostess, and a man took her coat. When she found her voice, Hermione turned to Ron. 

          "…Ron, are you sure you want to eat here?"

          He frowned. "You don't like it?"

          "No! I mean…It's beautiful, it just…" She thought of a way to put this without hurting Ron's pride. "Its only our first date. Are you sure we should be dining so…fancy?" she finished lamely. 

          Ron grinned. "I'm positive. Only the best for you."

          She smiled at him warmly, and couldn't help but feel a blush rise to her cheeks. 

          The hostess led them to a small table in a corner of the restaurant. Ron pulled out her chair for her, and somewhat surprised, she took her seat. Ron sat down and she looked into his bluish-gray eyes, wondering when he'd become such a gentleman. 

          "Would you like ze bottled water for ze table?" A waiter said, appearing quite suddenly. 

          "Bottled, please," Ron said.

          She shook her head. "Regular's just fine."

          Ron looked at her, his eyes protesting. 

          "Please Ron. Water is water."

          He grinned that wonderful, half-smirk, half-smile that made her privately swoon. "Regular it is, then."

          The waiter nodded, and handed them menus. 

          "Ze special tonight is ze monkfish, cooked in a cream sauce with white wine and a delicious seasoning of garlic and chives," the waiter said, nodding to each of them and then going off to attend another table. 

          She opened her menu, and felt slightly queasy when she looked at all the prices. For the price of an appetizer, she could have gotten a huge value meal with a whopper at Burger King. 

          She gaped slightly, and looked up at Ron. "Ron…how are you…I mean…"

          He looked into her eyes, smiling slightly. "Don't you worry about it."

          She frowned, and looked back down at her menu. There wasn't a huge selection, which usually signified that the restaurant was very gourmet and that everything was prepared fresh, rather than precooked. She had learned this when she had gone on vacation in France with her parents. 

          She bit her lip, not being able to decide between the pork and the salmon…She already knew she wanted the lobster salad. Or should she have soup? The roasted forrestier was only five dollars…

          "What's wrong?" Ron said, grinning at her.

          She looked up from her menu and grinned back. "I can't decide what to have. It all sounds so delicious."

          "Well…why don't you narrow it down to two things, and that's what we'll each have? That way you can try whatever I get."

          She nodded. "Sounds like a plan. You sure you'll eat whatever I order?"

          He held his head high. "Bring on your worst."

          She laughed. "Lucky for you I didn't pick escargot."

          He made a face. "Escargot? Isn't that snails? _Yuck_."

          She laughed, and he grinned at her, closing his menu. 

          The waiter came, and poured water into their glasses. Ron reached down and pulled up the leather case, opening it and pulling out a bottle of…wine? He handed it to the waiter and said, "Would you open this please? Let it breathe for a bit first though."

          "Of course, _monsieur_," the waiter said, taking the bottle and then reaching inside a pocket of his apron for a corkscrew. He opened the bottle, then placed it in a silver bucket in the middle of the table. Then he covered it with a maroon cloth. 

          She stared at Ron, not being able to believe that it was truly he in front of her and not…not Malfoy, or some other rich prat. Suddenly, she felt as if she knew nothing about Ron. 

          "You brought wine? Ron, I didn't know you knew about wines."

          He smirked mysteriously. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Hermione."

          She blinked, not quite knowing what to say to that. Suddenly, she felt nervous. What if she really didn't know him as well as she thought he did? What if they had both confessed their feelings for each other last week, not really knowing whom the other was? What if she ran out of things to say to him, and they spent the evening completely awkward, staring at the ceiling, or the floor, anything but each other because they were so terribly _wrong for each other, because it was all just a huge, giant mistake…Even worse, what if Ron decided he didn't like her anymore?_

          The feel of Ron's hand covering hers startled her. Her eyes met his, and she found he looked as nervous as she felt. He swallowed, his ears pink. "You…You look beautiful tonight, 'Mione."

          She smiled. This was her Ron. The shy, bashful, yet courageous Ron she fell in love with. _Love?_, her mind questioned, still not adjusted to the fact that she had accepted her feelings for him. _Yes, love_, her heart affirmed. 

          "Thank you. And you look…very dashing, Ron," she managed to say.

          He grinned, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "Thanks."

          Just then the waiter came back, notepad and pen in hand.

          "May I take your order?"

          Hermione smiled slyly. "Yes, I'll have the lobster salad and the pork. He'll have the salmon," she told him. 

          Ron blushed even more, at having Hermione order for him, she supposed. _Men, she thought, shaking her head slightly, but grinning at him all the same. _

          "Any appetizer for you, _monsieur_?"

          "Yes," he said, straightening up. "I'll have the french onion soup."

          "_Un bon choix, __monsieur," he said, turning to Hermione and taking her menu, then taking Ron's. "Zey will be ready shortly." He went off. _

          Ron's eyes captured Hermione's, and she thought she saw something strange in them. He took the bottle of wine out of the silver bucket, and pulling her glass closer, began to pour some into it. 

          She raised an eyebrow as he expertly poured wine into his glass as well. It was a Merlot, she noticed. 1999. Excellent year…how did he know?

          He lifted the cup upwards to his nose and inhaled the scent of the wine, then pulled it away and swirled it around in the wide glass like a connoisseur. _How did he know?_ The thought repeated itself in her head.

          Her brow furrowed, as she stared at him while he took a sip of the wine. Maybe Harry taught him…No, that wasn't right. She wasn't sure if the Dursleys drank wine, and if they did, she doubted they would teach Harry about it. Besides, Harry could barely handle his butterbeer. 

          Maybe his older brothers, Bill and Charlie? 

          She frowned slightly. No, his older brothers were sort of wild. Charlie worked with dragons after all, and Bill had that long hair, with that earring…

          His eyes met hers, and she picked up the glass of wine. "What shall we toast to?"

          He bit his lip, thinking carefully. "Hmm…" Then his eyes lit up, then returned to normal, as if he was trying to remain composed and cool. 

          "To us," he said softly, but she found him gazing at her intensely. 

          She stared back for a moment, but her shyness took over. She nodded at the tablecloth, and then looked back up again, clinking her glass with his. "To us," she echoed. And she took a sip. 

          The wine slid down smoothly, warming her instantly. It tasted of berries and oak, not too sweet, yet not too acidic. She realized she hadn't had anything for lunch, and wondered whether she should abstain from drinking anymore before their dinner came. After all, the effects of alcohol on an empty stomach could be rather…disastrous. Especially _her_ empty stomach, which was currently buzzing with butterflies and nerves. 

          She realized one of his hands was still covering hers, when she felt his thumb softly stroking it. 

          "So…what do you think Harry's doing right now?"

          She frowned. "Studying for our N.E.W.T's, I should hope."

          Ron grinned. "Give the man a break, Hermione. He's earned the right to slack off a bit."

          "Well pardon me, but being a hero and the most popular person in the wizarding world hardly excuses one from having to do their homework. Before you know it, Harry's head will be bigger than…than, well, Gilderoy Lockhart."

          Ron smirked at her, an evil glint in his eyes. "Gilderoy Lockart? But I thought you fancied him, Hermione."

          She scoffed. "That overbearing git? Fancy _him? _Whatever gave you that idea?" She took another sip of her wine. "There's only one person I fancy."

          "Oh really?" Ron pretended to look surprised. "I wonder who that person could be."

          "It's quite a mystery," Hermione said, smirking.

          "Quite," he agreed, leaning forward slightly. His eyes were no longer on hers, but rather, staring at the lower half of her face. Her heart began to pound as she leaned forward as well, her eyes slowly closing…

          "_Ahem," she heard the waiter clear his throat. She pulled away quickly, certain her face was red. The waiter placed her salad in front of her, a beautiful arrangement of lobster, on top of avocado, cucumbers, and a diced fruit or vegetable she didn't recognize, all covered with a drizzle of some red sauce._

          The waiter placed Ron's bowl before him, the brown onion soup covered with what she recognized to be cheese. Hermione frowned slightly, glad she hadn't ordered that. She'd never quite gained a liking for cheese. Or onion soup, for that matter. 

          The waiter hurried off, and they began to dig into their respective appetizers. Hermione's was delicious of course, but she couldn't help notice how Ron enjoyed his soup, blowing on it softly then devouring it spoon by spoon…

          He looked up and caught her staring at him. "Want to try?" he asked, in between blowing. 

          She shook her head. "No, but thanks."

          "Are you sure? It's really, really good."

          She shook her head again, and took another bite of lobster and avocado.

          He took a spoonful of soup and carefully lifted it up, bringing it to her mouth. "Careful, it's hot."

          She shook her head again stubbornly. "I don't like onion soup."

          "Have you ever tried it?"

          "No, but I don't like onions, and I don't like cheese, so I can't like onion soup."

          "How do you know you don't like it if you've never tried it?"

          She frowned at him. 

          "Come on, I can't hold this spoon steady forever."

          She sighed, and blew on it softly, taking a small sip from the spoon. She was surprised by its pleasant flavor. 

          He grinned at her and brought the spoon back to his bowl. "Like it?"

          Her mouth twitched, but she resolved not to smile at him. _He's insufferable when he knows he's right, she reminded herself. "It's alright," she said nonchalantly. _

          "It's more than alright, it's excellent. But it's mine, and you can't have any of it," he told her seriously, blowing and sipping his soup once more. 

          She glared at him, and took another sip of wine, opting not to respond. 

          Soon enough, she had already finished her salad, but Ron was still slowly savoring every sip of soup. She stared at him slurping, his eyes closing briefly in enjoyment. 

          He caught her again. "Want another try?"

          She pursed her lips and regarded him carefully. That soup was awfully good…

          Ron pushed the bowl towards her. She took her spoon, trying not to appear too eager, and took another taste of the soup. Her eyes fluttered closed. She couldn't escape the sound that came from her mouth. 

          "Mmm…"

          "Good?"

          "It's alright."  

          She kept eating until there was none left, and she looked up, surprised. Ron had been watching her the whole time, his elbow resting on the table and his chin and cheek leaning against his hand, an amused expression on his face. 

          She bit her lip. "Sorry."

          He shook his head, grinning. "I thought it was only alright," he couldn't help teasing. 

          "Oh, shut it." 

          Ron picked up the bottle of wine again, and refilled her glass. She held her head high and picked up the cup. Nodding to him, she said, "Cheers," and took a long drink from it. 

          He smiled, shaking his head slightly, and did the same. 

          She moistened her lips. "So Ron, tell me…how did you find out about this place?"

          "Oh, you know," he said, his eyes avoiding hers. "I've passed by it a couple of times and always wanted to try it." 

          "Really. I never knew you had an affinity for French cuisine."

          "An aff…oh yeah, that." He took another long drink of wine, suddenly looking quite pale. 

          "And you certainly seem to know your wines."

          Again he avoided her gaze. "Yes well…" 

          Ron was saved by the waiter, who arrived to take away their empty bowls. 

          "Are you surprised?" He asked, his blue eyes suddenly sharp. 

          "What do you mean?"

          "I mean, are you surprised that I seem to know so much about all this fancy stuff? You seem to be. You must have thought because I'm poor I didn't have any class, or manners, or know about any of this refined stuff. I'm sorry if I didn't meet up to your expectations, but--"

          "Oh, Ron," she said, cutting him off by reaching out and placing her hand on his cheek. He jumped slightly under her touch. He was so sensitive when it came to his family's financial status, so proud. Didn't he realize she simply didn't _care about how much money he had? _

          "Ron, I'm not surprised. If anything, I'm impressed, but not surprised. After all, you have more class and manners than anybody I know. That is, when you're not cursing like a sailor," she said, smiling softly. 

          He turned pink, embarrassed at having snapped at her. "I'm sorry Hermione. It's just, I really wanted to make sure tonight goes well."

          "It _is," she cut him off, smiling shyly. _

          "Good," Ron said, smiling. "I'm glad."

          She grinned, and then, she couldn't help herself. She giggled. 

          Ron cocked his head at her, wonder and amusement in his eyes. "What was _that?"_

          Hermione bit her lip, a grin escaping her. "I don't know." As Ron watched her in puzzled amusement, she fought hard not to reach over the table and throw her arms around him. She felt so warm, so happy. She'd never felt this good, not for years, and especially not with things being as miserable as they'd been lately, what with Harry all stressed, Voldemort still out there…She knew she should have been worried about Harry, worried that they'd left him all alone, but all she could think about was wonderful Ron, and his lovely blue eyes gazing at her adoringly from across the table. 

          She giggled again, remembering something.

          "What?"

          "Do you remember that time back in second year? When Malfoy insulted me and you stood up for me?"

          "Ah yes," he said, remembering. "How much I enjoyed throwing up slugs," he said fondly.

          Hermione slapped him lightly. "You did _not_."

          "Well what do you think? That I threw up slugs just to defend you? Of course not, don't you know how good slugs are? I wonder if this place serves them…"

          She laughed and thought vaguely in the back of her mind that Ron was so silly, sillier than usual. His eyes twinkled at her, and she thought of something. 

          Could the alcohol be having its effect?  
          She shook her head. _Who the bloody hell cares?, she thought with a grin. _

          Then the waiter arrived with their entrees. Both entrees had a beautiful presentation, her pork arranged in slices on top of a bed of wilted Romaine lettuce and a side of some apple mixture…It was French food, which usually comprised of strange combinations that surprisingly went together very well. Kind of like her and Ron, Hermione realized.   

          They dug into their food, both agreeing that it was delicious, and trying each other's selections. In between bites, they talked about _everything, laughing at funny stories they remembered and smiling shyly whenever the other said or did something even remotely romantic. _

          By the end of the meal, Hermione was feeling strange. She recognized that her brain was not working as fast as it should have been…it was taking her so much longer to process thoughts as usual. It was the wine, she knew it was, but that didn't stop her from taking the occasional sip. Still, she fought to maintain a grip on sobriety. She blinked at Ron, forcing her eyes to stay alert and focused. But it was so hard, especially when all she wanted to do was lean her head on Ron's shoulders and close her eyes. 

          Before she knew it, her glass was empty, and Ron was refilling it again. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Another cup?" she whined. 

          "You can handle it," he grinned. "You're a big girl."

          "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had something up your sleeve, Mr. Weasley," she said with a smirk, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands. 

          "And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were under the influence, Miss Granger," he returned with an equal smirk. 

          "Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Weasley?"

          "I'm not trying. You _are_ drunk," he said pointedly. 

          "I'm not drunk," she said with a light glare in his direction. "I'm simply a little…" she moistened her lips and looked up at the ceiling, considering her word options. She looked back at him. "…affected. And so are you."

          "Indeed I am. Affected by your beauty," he said grinning, taking her hand and kissing it. 

          Hermione laughed. "You sound like Gred and Forge." Ron looked horrified for a moment, and then followed her, laughing despite himself. 

          Then the waiter arrived, handing them their dessert menus. 

          "Ooh, everything sounds divine," she said, looking it over.

          He snapped his menu shut. "I know what I want."

          "Oh?"  

          "The chocolate."

          She grinned. "That's what I was thinking of having, but I'm so full."

          "Want to erm," he squirmed slightly in his seat, "share it?"

          She nodded, and closed the menu. 

          "One _chocolat _dessert, then?" The waiter asked. 

          "And two espressos, please," Ron added.

          Hermione made a face. "I don't drink coffee, Ron."

          He smiled that Ron-smile at her, and she melted. "Trust me."

          The waiter hurried off with their orders, and she excused herself to go to the bathroom. She made it to the ladies room without falling or tripping even once, and she felt very proud of her resistance to alcohol, but as soon as she was safely behind the doors she found herself barely able to stand. 

          She felt a little better once she answered Mother Nature's call, but her head still felt so fuzzy. Even washing her hands in ice-cold water couldn't replace the warm and sluggish feeling. She very much wanted to wash her face, but dared not take her makeup off. She reapplied her plum lip gloss carefully, wondering what in the blazes Ron saw in her. 

          She returned to the table, very grateful to be able to sit down once again, and the waiter brought over their espressos and dessert. It was two slices of something chocolate, garnished with strawberries and adorned with droplets of raspberry sauce and another white sauce. Ron brought his chair closer to hers, as it was a round table, and he took his fork, cutting into the beautiful dessert. He brought the fork to her mouth.

          She opened her mouth, her eyes on his, and he fed her the chocolate. She closed her mouth, savoring the flavor and texture. It was rich, creamy, and absolutely heavenly. She realized she had closed her eyes and she opened them again to find Ron gazing at her intensely. 

          "My turn," she whispered. She grabbed her fork and took a piece of chocolate, raising it to his mouth. He opened obligingly and closed once the fork had gone in. His reaction was similar to hers, and slowly, she slid the fork out. 

          They continued like this until almost all the dessert was gone. Suddenly, she cleared her throat. 

          "Erm, you have a bit of chocolate on your lips."

          His eyes caught hers in another intense gaze. "Do I now," he said in almost a whisper. 

          She nodded. She wasn't sure if it was the wine, or the chocolate, or quite possibly the proximity of Ron, his wonderful scent, his lovely blue eyes, and the thought that his lips looked so inviting that made Hermione's heart begin to pound. She felt her cheeks flush, and she knew that Ron expected her to take care of the chocolate smudge on his bottom lip. _This is it_, Hermione thought. _Our second kiss_. 

          He leaned forward, and Hermione was suddenly very glad that their small table was in a dim corner of the restaurant. Then again, she didn't really care who saw. Courtesy of that awful wine, she thought wryly. 

          Hermione closed her eyes and brushed her lips against his softly. Then she captured his bottom lip with her mouth, parting her lips just enough to lick the chocolate smudge on his bottom lip. 

          She drew back for a moment to look into Ron's eyes. His cheeks were flushed and the tips of his ears were red.

          "Don't be such a tease, Miss Granger," he whispered huskily. And he kissed her, slowly and passionately, one hand resting on her lap and another in her hair, fingering her soft brown locks. 

          Finally they parted, both gasping a little at the lost of contact and at the need for air. Hermione's heart still pounded rapidly, and she drunk in the way Ron was looking at her. Slowly her brain began to work again. It was thinking, where did Ron learn how to kiss like that? So…soo…she began to lose herself in Ron's eyes again and this time, she voluntarily relinquished all ability of thought. 

          Just then, the waiter arrived. She snapped sharply back to reality, and privately thought that the waiter had impeccable timing. 

          "Are you finished, _monsieur et mademoiselle_?" he asked, gesturing to the dessert. 

          Ron nodded absently. "Oh, and bring the check please."

          "_Oui, monsieur."_

          She sighed a little, holding her head. So, so fuzzy…

          Ron turned to her once the waiter had left. "Are you alright?"

          She smiled at him warmly. "Just fine, don't worry."

          He grinned at her knowingly and pushed the espresso towards her. "Drink this, you'll feel better."

          She added some sugar to the tiny cup and took a sip, finding the coffee to be strong but to her liking. Once she had drunk it all, her mind was processing notably better, although she wasn't sure how long the clarity would last. 

          The waiter arrived with the check, and Hermione immediately reached for it. 

          "Are you off your _rocker_?" Ron said loudly, earning strange looks from other diners in the restaurant. 

          Hermione felt sheepish, and remembered Ron's delicate pride. 

          "Ron," she said quietly, "I feel…not right about this. At least let me help."

          "No way," he said, shaking his head adamantly. 

          "But how are you going to--"

          "I've got it covered," he cut her off simply. 

          "But Ron--"

          "Look, Hermione," he said, cutting her off again. He looked around quickly, as if checking to see that nobody was listening, and he spoke in a low tone of _voice, his eyes not meeting hers. "Tonight has been…more than perfect. Please don't ruin it now and just trust me when I say I've got it covered."_

          She sighed hesitantly. "Alright. I trust you. You just better not have robbed a bank."

          Ron stared at her and blinked. 

          She saw the way he was looking at her and blanched. "Oh no, don't tell me you _did…"_

          "Of course not," he snapped. "I just can't believe you said that to me."

          "Oh Ron," she said, rolling her eyes and waving her hand dismissively, not even bothering to take his offense seriously. "You should know perfectly well that I'm not exactly in full control of my faculties tonight."

          Ron tried to look sullen but at this, faltered with a grin as he placed a Gringotts money card into the black folder that held the bill. The card worked much like a Muggle check, allowing the restaurant to take whatever Ron owed directly out of his Gringotts account. If the money weren't paid within 30 days, because it wasn't in the account or for any other reason, Ron would soon begin to miss important body parts. 

          He handed the black folder back to the waiter, who bowed to them both and said, "_Merci, and thank you for dining at __La Ciboulette. __Bonsoir."_

          "_Bonsoir," they both said to him, and after retrieving their coats, walked out of the restaurant, arms linked. They walked around Hogsmeade for a bit first, neither one in any hurry to get back to the dorms. They fell into easy conversation, talking about their families, about Harry and Ginny, and what they thought they might be doing after graduation.  But soon enough, they had passed through the Gryffindor portrait hole and into the silent common room, which was empty, as everyone had apparently gone to bed. _

          "So," Ron said, looking pained. 

          "So," Hermione agreed. She sighed. 

          "—Ron,"

          "—Hermione," they both blurted out at the same time. 

          "You first," Hermione said quickly. 

          Ron looked flustered. "I just…I wanted to say that…well…"

          "I'm having déjà vu," Hermione commented with a sly grin. 

          She was referring to last week, when Ron had awkwardly confessed to liking her.       

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Not making this any easier, 'Mione."

          "Sorry," she grinned. 

          He looked deep into her eyes and shook his head. "You're so bloody beautiful. And smart, and kind, and amazing. And I love you."

          Her jaw dropped slightly at the statement, which Ron had said so suddenly. But then, she became fairly certain she had not heard him correctly. It was very possible that in her tipsy state, she had misunderstood. After all, he couldn't have said…what she thought he said. 

          "What?" she whispered, her eyes wide open. 

          "I love you," he said simply, his blue eyes completely open and vulnerable. They spoke volumes to her, and she could see how true his statement was, how scared he was to say it, and how nervous he was, waiting for a response. 

          She couldn't believe it. They'd just been on their first date, and he'd already said the three words she knew every man desperately avoided. Which was absolutely perfect, because she felt the same exact way. _He was absolutely perfect. _

          Her eyes shined, and she swallowed hard, feeling like she wanted to either bounce or cry of happiness. "I love you too, Ron." 

          He grinned, and suddenly picked her up and whirled her around. She giggled, unable to contain herself. The common room flew around in one big blur, and just as she was starting to get dizzy, he let her slide down into his arms. She looked up at him, and without any hesitation, they kissed. Hermione felt all the fireworks of their first kiss, along with all the passion of their second. 

          They parted reluctantly, both realizing where they were and how very embarrassing it would be if someone came down and caught them. 

          "We really ought to get to bed," Ron said, his trademark grin on his face. 

          Hermione nodded. "There's just one thing though…you don't have to tell me if you really don't want to but…how _did _you get the money for tonight?"

          Ron laughed and he looked at her for a moment, as if deciding whether or not he should tell. "Oh what the hell, I might as well throw the rest of my pride to the wind, seeing as I've already swallowed most of it in the past week…Believe it or not 'Mione, I've been…preparing for this for a while now. I've been meaning to ask you out ever since fourth year. The money was just…saved up." He blushed. 

          Hermione looked at him solemnly, and then kissed him firmly and unexpectedly on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her hands through his hair. She pulled away slowly and with a smirk on her face at Ron's slowly opening eyes and his tousled hair. 

          He shook out of his reverie and led her to the stairs of the girls' dorm. She climbed onto the first step, her hand still in his. He brought it to his mouth and kissed it, all the while still gazing into her eyes. 

          "Goodnight, luv," he whispered. 

          She sighed, instantly loving his new nickname for her. 

          "_Bonsoir, mon amour," she said with a giggle. She was turning into Lavender and Parvati. And yet somehow, she didn't really mind. After all, in the morning, when Ron teased her about it, she could always blame it on the wine. _

          But Hermione knew it was merely Ron's effect on her. Simple, brave, proud, charming Ron. The boy who threw up slugs for her. The boy who got jealous for her. The boy who saved up for years to take her out on a date. The boy who confessed his love for her on said date. She made a mental note never to truly let him know how much he affected her. He had the power to turn her into a sighing, giggling, French-spouting idiot. It was scary. 

          She touched two fingers to her lips and pressed the same two fingers to his. "Thank you for a lovely evening," she whispered, before turning and running up the stairs to the girls' dorms. 

          Ron grinned, his lips slightly burning where she had touched them. Never mind that, where she had kissed them…He turned and ran up the other stairs to the boys' dorms. 

---------------------------------------

          Hermione opened the door quietly, being careful not to make a sound. But, as she expected, Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny were all wide-awake, reading magazines on her bed. They all looked up when she entered.   
          "Well?" Ginny said with a grin. 

          Hermione matched her grin. "It was…"

---------------------------------------

          "…absolutely wonderful," Ron said, collapsing onto his bed dreamily. 

          Harry smiled and rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, there'll be…"

---------------------------------------

          "…no tolerating you two now," Ginny said. 

          Lavender and Parvati grinned. "SO? Details! We're not going to bed until we hear every last detail."

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          "So she really liked everything? Even the wine? I wasn't sure if I'd gotten the right kind when I swiped it from Uncle Vernon's cabinet."

          "Yeah!" Ron's eyes lit up. "That stuff is bloody brilliant! Between you and me, Harry, I'd venture to say she was a little bit affected by the alcohol. You should have seen her when I poured her second cup, she just lifted it up and said "Cheers," and can you imagine Hermione doing that? I wanted to crack up laughing but then she _looked _at me with this expression and she was so beautiful, just stunning really, and then we--"

          "I'm happy for you, mate. Just do me a favor," said Harry, looking exasperated. 

          "Yeah?"

          "Spare me the details."

_

__Fin___

Right, I've just gotten off the phone with Miss Rowling, and SHE says that if you all review my little story now, she's going to come to your house and give you ONE MILLION DOLLARS!!! 

::the lawyers come back:: 

Okay, maybe she didn't say exactly that, but it would make my day if I got some reviews. ::glares at lawyers:: Damn vultures…You'll never take me alive!!!


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